The Last Pawn
by Arayan
Summary: The night the young Potter survived, even when his parents were both murdered, the story is incomplete. There was another child. Another survivor. One who would be the determining factor between the Hero of the Light and the Dark Lord Voldemort.
1. Through the Veisieve Glass

**Disclaimer** - Ok, let me spell it out plain and simple for everybody. I will say this once and once only and it applies to me for the rest of my life. I do not own or claim to own the characters, ideas, places, etc. or anything related created by the brilliant mind of J. K. Rowling. Get it? Got it? Good. Cuz that's the only time I will ever say this. So speak now or forever hold you peace. silence Good! On with the fic!

**Author's Notes**: Hold up! One more minor interference before the fun begins. I want everybody to know that this is an alternate universe fanfic so please, please, PLEASE do not hold it against me that the characters may be, well, out of character! Different circumstances and events have changed them and I have added a new character. She is all mine. I mean that. ALL MINE. (And no...she doesn't get Malfoy. I think.) Read, Enjoy, and...Review!

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- **Prologue** - Chalix - Let the Dreams Speak -

**Through the Veisieve Glass**

Very few wizards hold the knowledge of how to apparate another person without transporting themselves, especially without splinching that other. Fortunately, or unfortunately depending on your view, I was the 'victim' of such an act.

Ten years ago, I was in the house of James and Lily Potter. Now you're giving me a quizzical look, "Wait, Potter?" you ask. Yes. _The _famous Potters. Their son, Harry, and I were constant play mates. We were only a year old, but we forged a fast friendship at our young age.

The night Lord Voldemort attacked? I was there. I saw it happen. Don't believe me, do you? Why should you? Either I should be dead or just as famous as that funny haired 'boy who lived.' Right? Well I think you're wrong. There are just a few details that were left out of the story. Me being one of them.

See, when Lord Voldemort arrived at the Potter's residence, most everything went according to the tale as most people tell it. First mistake comes in when Lily sacrificed herself to save Harry. There wasn't only one life involved. No, she saved two, Harry's and mine.

When it was only the three of us left, the Lord Voldemort, Harry, and I, the Dark Lord came to me and picked me up in his arms, unharmed. He wouldn't kill me. Not when I could be so important to the outcome of the Last War - the one prophesied to end with a battle between the Lord Voldemort and Harry Potter. Here is another piece of the history that's forgotten. Not only was my existence unknown to almost all the wizarding world, so was the second prophecy, the one pertaining to me.

The one with the power to determine whose glory approaches

a pawn of decision, hidden, yet closest to both players of the game

born to protectors of light and good but raised by the Dark Lord's most faithful

and so shall one die at the hand of the other but victory only comes through her survival

the one with the power to determine the glory, the one to be graced by shadowed light'

It was the same lady, Sybill Trelawney, who foretold Harry's that spoke mine. No wonder, then, that my prophecy sounds so much alike to Harry's. Well, partially. So, although Lord Voldemort had not had the chance to hear the entire first prophecy, he did witness mine; as I was destined to be the final, determining pawn for the victor of the epic battle between dark and light to come, he could not risk my death, just in case I was to help him, my Lord Voldemort. That is how I came into my first hand experience at being apparated without knowing the spell myself.

After he sent me off, I'll tell you where later, the Dark Lord did attack the 'hero' Harry Potter with the dreaded Avada Kedavra curse. As everybody will assure you, Harry Potter survived, with the famed, jagged lightning bolt scar to prove it. He is the only one to ever survive, and at only one year old at that.

The spell rebounded on my master. While most stories disregard the difference between a total loss of magic power and as crippled, half-dead wraith, there is a difference, I assure you. I am actually quite confused to how the misperception came about in the first place. They don't really seem that similar in my mind. Well, Lord Voldemort did lose his magical powers in the complete and utter respect. He did not, however, lack for any of his physical attributes, except maybe some singed hair on his wand arm. The magic loss was not permanent, and he made a tactical retreat in order to regain them.

Now I must ask, though I know you cannot respond, am I explaining anything or just adding to the confusion? Oh! Did I forget to mention the sister bit? Yes, Harry Potter is my brother. In fact, he is my twin, which is probably the reason we have such a close relationship. So, that would mean that my name should be Chalix Potter. Maybe it should be. But most call me Chalix Riddle. And you would do well to do the same.

Now, you still don't believe me, do you? You probably shouldn't. After all, who's more creditable? Dumbledore? Or some young girl, turned to the dark side, who's probably only hungry for attention? So, I wont tell you to believe me. The facts would not in normal cases fit together. I found myself drawn in and seeing my story to be true. How could I not? For, so my dreams tell me and who am I not to listen to my dreams? Never been wrong before, have they?

Oh, time is short. I must go now. Be happy, my story does not end here. There is so much more to explain! But now I must take my leave of you. After all, tomorrow is the sorting and my first day at Hogwarts, school of witchcraft and wizardry. As well as Harry's. And Draco's.

As the young girl of eleven years rose up from her chair, she tapped the edge of the Veisieve bowl. Much like a Pensieve, the Veisieve stored memories. The difference? That in the Veisieve, one could, in a way, edit the memories. As in a diary, one 'wrote' down what one thought of an event and held it safe for storage. Though no-one ever dared call Chalix's Veisieve a diary. Normally, she was a nice, quiet little girl, but she could be overly protective of her treasures. The Veisieve was much more personal and much more fun to add commentary to, or so Chalix thought. It was also much rarer than a _simple _Pensieve.

Tossing her midnight raven-colored hair out of her face, she lifted the Veisieve into her hands and attempted, at her short height of 4'9", to lift it to the upper shelf. She almost missed and would have dropped it, had not a strong pair of hands come up from behind her and helped guide the Veisieve to its proper position for safe-keeping.

She dropped down from tip-toe to turn around and gave the boy a warm hug. "Thanks Draco." She looked up at him with a twinkle in her eye, "Now how do always know whenever I'm about to get in trouble?"

He shrugged, but he couldn't help the corners of his mouth twitch up slightly as she spoke. "We should be going to bed now. Have to wake up early tomorrow, or rather later today, to catch the Hogwarts Express. Can't be late for our first year. You know your father would never accept that." As an after thought, he added, "Nor would mine. 'Night," and he walked out of the room.

The light that had been burning late into the early hours of the morning on the third story of the Malfoy Mansion blew out and darkness finally ruled throughout.

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**Your Author Cymarel Speaking** Hope you like it so far. This is just a SHORT prologue (in fact my author's notes are probably as long as the chapter itself...eheheh...) and may seem confusing (like why is she at the Malfoy house, her being Chalix Riddle, etc...maybe not, maybe?). I will clear up some the next chapter, and some, maybe not. So please, if I have made any technical mistakes with terms or objects from Harry Potter that I have used, feel free to embarrass me all you like and tell me in a review! And I appreciate constructive criticism but I do not tolerate flames. They shall be burned at the stake! Like a witch. Like in Monty Python.

And now my muse. (I invented her, mind you) She brought inspiration to me last night. Right as I was trying to sleep. Is that just the best time to annoy me or what IS she thinking?!

**Aire**: Did you not just answer your question? Well of course I wish to annoy you! Hope you all like this idea, alternate universe and all. I know Cymarel is not huge on reading other stories that are alternate universes. Mostly because they screw up the people's personalities unrealistically. I'm not trying to make Cymarel do that in this story but it may just turn out that way! Sorry! hides face in hands while peeking out through fingers and um I think this counts as an alternate universe fic though I can't be sure...anyways I hope it will turn out good and REVIEW!!! More from me next time! Ja-!

**Cymarel**: Now, now Aire. Were you trying to take my Ja ne away from me? sinister smile Oh and I thought you learned your lesson last time...well, well. Time for more chocolate! and its not Reeses! sinister laugh Ja ne everybody!

**Aire**: No! Not the chocolate!!! Aaaaaah!!!


	2. First Years: Bring out the Serpents

**Author's Notes**: I pronounce Chalix's name as either Chah-lee of Choh-lee, depending on my randomness. But don't let that stop you from saying it however you like. Just remember, she's MINE. This chapter is mostly just a bit of filler information, but I still hope you enjoy it!

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- **First Years** - **Bring out the Serpents** -

They both woke at six, due to the magical charm placed on them the night before that brought them abruptly out of their dream time journeys.

Chalix rubbed a hand against her forehead in an attempt to remember her dream. It had been a particularly vivid one but any and all details had fled her mind as the charm was set off. She spent no more than a moment like that, for she knew better than to toddle along on such a promising day as today.

Arriving at the bathroom, she unconsciously noted that a house elf, probably Dray, had laid out all her necessities for her shower. She had been trained from her first day in the Malfoy house to take quick, yet still thorough showers. Allowing herself the briefest of leisure time, she was out and dressed in just under six minutes.

Not wanting to risk the spotless quality of her seamless, perfect wizarding robes as she ate, she threw them over her shoulder. Narcissa Malfoy, always meticulous about choice in clothing, had chosen out Chalix's apparel for the day. She wore a skirt that ended just below her knees and matched her hair and eyes in color: a midnight black with just a hint of an emerald shimmer. It would flare out just the right amount when she spun. It felt wonderful on her skin and she always looked forward to special occasions when she would have the chance to wear it. Not as if the rest of her closet was of any lesser make, after all, she lived in the MALFOY mansion, but this was just _extra _special.

Underneath a slim jacket of a deep serpentine hue, only a few shades lighter than her skirt, she wore a plain white shirt. It would have appeared to be a normal button up blouse except that the sleeves fell off the edges of her shoulders in loose ripples. Of course, only a small V of the shirt was revealed from underneath the jacket.

To go along with those, she was wearing nice, little, schoolgirl white socks, over which she had on one inch high-heeled shoes. They were sophisticated and still remarkably comfortable. And they made her tall! If they had been simple muggle high heels, she probably would have thrown them off some bridge somewhere, but the magical comfort redeemed their value and she enjoyed her temporary height while she could.

Chalix's favorite piece of apparel was the tear drop shaped jewel hanging from the exceptionally slender chain of white gold that was clasped behind her neck. Indistinguishable to the naked eye, each link took the shape of a dragon. Minuscule versions of the tear drop burned from the eyes of each dragon head as it crooked its neck around the preceding dragon's tail. Asides from these nearly invisible dragons, one very visible one was frozen in time. The head was thrown back and time flame was shooting from its mouth as the outspread wings appeared ready to fly the dragon away in a heartbeat. If only it was not trapped in the jewel, perhaps it would have flown.

This was one of Chalix's precious treasures. It had been a gift from the Malfoy family. Prompted by Lucius, Draco had presented it to her on the 4th anniversary of her first day of living in their household (or should I say, mansionhold). The iridescent hue of blood red glistened from within the crystal jewel. No muggle human, nor even most wizards or witches would ever wear such a priceless possession. The forever crimson could be found nowhere but deeply imbedded in the heart of a Basilisk. To even touch the jewel, like the deadly gaze of its possessor, was instantly fatal to any non-mage, for only a magic wielder of extraordinary powers could counteract the innate strength of the Basilisk's soul gem.

As a last touch, Chalix pulled half her hair back into a high ponytail and twisted that into a bun. She allowed the remaining tendrils of hair to fall lazily around her face and against her back. Looking in the mirror, she fixed her bangs to accentuate the snake, trademark of Slytherin, that claimed the center of her forehead. Unlike Harry's scar, this was a purposeful, magical 'tattoo' that worked much in the same way as the Deatheater's mark. It was a sign that promised her at an early age to her Lord and Master's reign. She rather liked the look of it, as it was her unique symbol. Nobody else's. Not as if many people knew what it implied, she simply told most that she thought 'it looked trendy' and gave her a 'distinctive and unique look,' though many people just said it made her look weird and shot her strange, yet curious glances. Only the Malfoys, a few other trusted Deatheaters, and of course, her Lord Voldemort knew what it meant.

The Malfoys had been entrusted with her care the day her Lord had taken her away from her home. It would have been far too risky to keep a child of rapidly growing powers near him when he lacked all. So, he allowed her to live with his most promising Deatheater, Lucius Malfoy, and his family. He won her trust and loyalty and visited every once in a while to ensure that they all stayed his.

She was, strangely enough, allowed to visit her brother and twin, Harry Potter. After a few years of being apart from him and straining their blood bond, Chalix had began to fall sick. It was only on an 'accidental,' probably somehow magical, run-in with him that she miraculously healed. From then on, she had been reluctantly allowed once a month visits with her sibling.

Since Dumbledore had not felt the need to force more fear into the Dursleys and Petunia had not kept in close contact with her horrific witch of a sister, they never knew that Chalix was more than just one of Harry's only friends. They never figured out that the similarities in their looks or behavior were due to more than just their many contacts. Then again, they never really did have much time to observe the two together for they hid fearfully from her sight whenever she came over.

Every time she visited, she was with Draco. Else wise, who knew what Harry could do to convince her over to his side. While Draco still held mistrust for the one who brought down the Great Lord Voldemort, Harry was instantly grateful for his two friends and was very loyal in his friendship. He was defensive of anyone who dared insult either of them and, though still brave and true, his companions gradually worked to convince him of the greatness of the House of Slytherin. Knowing Harry was too strong to be immediately corrupted, Chalix persuaded Draco to at least try to act agreeably around Harry. Thus, Harry recognized the House of Slytherin by characteristics of cleverness and power, two things that would normally not appear malicious; he sure was in for a surprise his first day at Hogwarts. When Harry's first day at Hogwarts arrived, they hoped their tactics would convince Harry to not have any doubts about which house he desired. So they hoped.

Chalix and Draco met at their breakfast table, sparkling clean and set with a delicious array of foods, perfect for the family of an king. They ate neatly and silently, not wanting to dawdle on this day.

After the house elves had made sure to double and even triple check their luggage, the to-be wizard and witch picked up their wands and walked to the door. Walking with both hands behind their backs, they silently pointed their wands at each other and almost identical smirks crossed both their faces at the inside joke.

Though this was to be their first day of proper schooling, it was not to say that they knew nothing of magic or the spells. Lucius Malfoy had deemed it appropriate that his son and his young female charge were given at least a basic learning in magic spells before their entrance to Hogwarts. The Lord Voldemort had seen even further and ensured Chalix had a proper hold over advanced spells, even ones such as the Imperius and Cruciatus curses. They had not, however, learned all the filler spells such as for Divination. Those just weren't very useful. Figuring out when the planets would be in the best position to take a walk? Who would need that? Though, they had learned ones such as Accio and Petrificus Totalus. The last one had been used more as one of the beginner steps up to the Imperious Curse for Chalix and for Draco? Just to show that he could.

During the times just after Chalix returned from her lessons with their guest the Dark Lord, Draco's eyes would glow with a fierce, burning resentment. Fortunately for him, he had been taught from day one never to question the Dark Lord's word if he ever hoped to reach a high rank in the Dark forces.

While they could have simply had Lord Voldemort apparate them to the school or use Floo Powder, Narcissa insisted that they drive the stretch limo. It was of a new make. A magician one and thus surpassed any muggle car. Narcissa wanted to put on a show, especially to the other wizards, if only to serve as a reminder, that the Malfoys were still the most important and well-off family in any community.

Chalix had insisted that they pick up Harry and so they swung by the Dursley's house to Narcissa's muttered remark, "Rotten neighborhood, how do they simply live in this filth." Of course if Petunia had heard that, she would have been outraged. Well, after she had pieced herself together from the puddle of fear and timidity that overcame her and her family whenever any wizard approached, she would.

Harry was waiting out front, a cheerful smile broadening his face as he saw them drive up. The Dursleys were inside at the moment, hiding with the windows and doors closed and securely locked up as they transformed into their typical mounds of quivering jelly.

As two house elves silently packed his trunks into the limousine, Harry slipped into the third compartment and they set off again.

The driver, having to be in the front for visibility purposes, took up the first compartment.

In the second, Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy sat, rigidly polite, even in front of each other. Small talk had been long ago dispensed of and they now spoke of the Lord Voldemort's plans for their young girl in their charge.

"Dear," spoke Narcissa in her typical nasally voice, "Has the Dark Lord yet informed you yet when he will be taking back that girl? Not to say that she's a dreadful nuisance or anything. Never that. And what do you say about Draco and her? The Dark Lord's daughter and his right hand man's son. Hm...And oh, why did he give her that name Riddle? I thought he hated that muggle name. Did you-?"

"Enough already. No he has not informed me yet of when she shall be leaving us. That would be a convenient and probably profitable match, however, do not assume anything of our Lord's wishes. It is foolish of you. I wouldn't know why he gave her that name. Only, maybe, for use in public? She can't very well go around school with the name Chalix Voldemort, can she? Now dear, would you like some of this wine? I've heard it's from an excellent year," he said with a forced smile, clearly annoyed by the sarcasm evident in his voice as he attempted to shut up the endless stream of questions that he had temporarily bottled up.

The compartment that Harry had entered and where Chalix and Draco were already sitting was for them alone. It was regally furbished with a few couches, one bed, drinks, and a currently miniature sized hot tub, though it could be brought up to proper size at any moment, and a rather magical version of a muggle television named the Velodosee. It was named after its maker, Velodoran, with a careful twist of the name to make it sound more appropriate for manufacturing.

The three sat engaged in conversation about what the new school would be like, the students, quidditch, just about everything asides from classes and teachers.

"So Harry, what do you imagine the other students in Slytherin will be like?" asked Chalix to initiate the conversation.

"I um...I guess...I wouldn't really know," he paused a moment, looking thoughtful before he asked in return, "How are you so sure we'll be in Slytherin?"

"Hah. Of course we'll be in Slytherin. I just couldn't imagine anything else," Chalix began to giggle uncontrollably, "I mean imagine me, _ME_, being sorted into Hufflepuff!"

Draco only rolled his eyes at the obvious answer. After all, he was a pureblood descendant of a long line of Slytherins, Chalix was the most famous Slytherin's only daughter, and they were Harry's only two friends and influences.

Chalix suddenly stilled, "Ugh. Imagine what it really would be like to be stuck in that house of witless twits." Her expression was completely serious but for the sparkle of humor in her eyes. It always happened that way. Truly, it seemed that her eyes were the windows to her soul, always honest and faithful to her feelings and emotions.

They chattered on until they arrived at the train station where the house elves popped out from the last and smallest compartment to haul the heavy baggage to Platform 9¾ . There was no need to use magic to hide their obviously abnormal looks from the eyes of muggles. After all, muggles never did look properly anyways, and, just in case one did, house elves were born and bred to appear invisible even if they were standing right straight in front of you.

They arrived on the platform a good hour or so early. Sixty minutes to be precise. They easily found the room nearest the front with the best position and view and settled in after Chalix and Draco exchanged formal kisses on the cheek with both Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy. Inside, they enjoyed easy talk after the parents had left, Lucius to work and Narcissa to return to the Manor, until other students finally decided to arrive. Talk then turned to other students tawdry apparel, looks, guessed personality, behavior, sorted house, and the like.

While it was no new sight to Draco or Chalix having been raised in the wizarding world, Harry Potter was absolutely fascinated with the extensive array of wizarding artifacts and especially broomsticks and animals students carried with them. Although, Harry did own a beautiful snowy white owl named Hedwig he had bought when school shopping at Chalix's prompting. So, sure he had heard his only two friends speak of the wonderful sights he saw here as they were daily occurrences, which of course they were, but he had never quite envisioned it like he saw it now.

As Harry's thoughts were wild and scattering constantly further from themselves, Draco and Chalix enjoyed companionable banter of collected thoughts. That is to say, until a certain, nervous pudding faced boy shyly slid the door open, shiftily averting his eyes from the occupants.

"Um...he...he...helLO!" He seemed to have a difficult time overcoming his stutter in their presence and the last part of his shaky greeting was overly forceful. Chalix and Draco stared at him in scorn, a little surprised when Harry stood up and walked over to the boy and placed a hand on his shoulder, "Hey, you ok? My names Harry, Harry Potter. What's yours?"

If possible, the boys face drained further of color as he turned to look straight into the eyes of the 'boy-who-lived." His jaw dropped slightly and he tried incoherently to utter any comprehensible word of the English language. After a stunted silence, "Harr...Ha....Har...ry Pot...t...t...ter..." Draco scoffed at his pathetic attempts to talk and self-demeaning worshipful manner of Potter. This was why he'd never really liked that boy. Famous for something he'd hardly had part in.

"Yes. Harry Potter. And you?" Harry, a little confused, gave the other boy's shoulder a comforting squeeze to try to help him to better talk.

"Neville. Longbottom. Awed..." he managed to fumble out from his gaping mouth. Chalix shifted quite obviously trying to gain their attention. She kicked Harry and gave him a look that so clearly said 'Look-at-me-I'm-so-utterly-annoyed-out-of-my-mind-I'll-go-blow-something-up-soon-probably-that-Neville-boy-if-you-don't-get-him-out-of-here-soon," and he let out an inaudible sigh, "So, Neville, were you looking for someone?"

As if a little spark had gone off in his head, the boy nodded his head with a startling fierceness, "Yeah...yes...my frog...Trevor...I lost him! Have you seen him?" he pleaded, his eyes begging for the help.

As gently as he possibly could, he told him he hadn't, but that he would inform him immediately if he did and that he should probably return to his friends, who were incidentally glaring daggers at him.

The door shut softly behind the still awe-struck boy as Harry gently led him from the room. Chalix and Draco were thinking near identical thoughts. 'Damn what happened? He's supposed to be like us! Not some damn chivalrous person! He'll never make Slytherin. Damn if this doesn't undo all my work. Now what do I do?!'

There was some grumbling after that incident but the rest of the trip went relatively well, even better once the snack cart and they each bought an assortment of sweet treats, especially Bertie Botts Every Flavor Beans and Chocolate Frogs.

All too soon, the train seemed to come to a halt, wheels screeching hollowly into the growing darkness of the evening. In his excitement, Harry was the first one out of their compartment and he rushed off the train only to be met by a big bundle of...hair?

"FIRS' YEARS!!!" came the deep, overly loud bellow, apparently its source where Harry had fallen. The oversized man reached over, hand outstretched and an apologetic smile on his face, "Sorry there. Didn't see ya coming. So yer a firs' year 'ere I'm guessin'?"

"Yeah, Harry Potter," he said as he took the hand up. "Thank you. So, are you the one in charge? Oh...wait..." his cheerful attitude dropped a few notches as Chalix and Draco each grabbed one of his sleeves and dragged him a few feet away, just enough to be rude and stay in the hairy man's hearing range.

"Harry, Harry, Harry...what have we taught you?" Chalix started with an exasperated sigh, overly dramatic, "You are NOT to associate with such obviously half-blood filth if you want me to come anywhere NEAR you! They'll contaminate you!"

"What, cooties? I don't see anything wrong with him..." Harry's brows furrowed with uncertainty, he didn't want to be alone but he didn't want to be rude either.

"Not that, you miserable idiot. You'll be turned into a bloody sap if you hang out with that lot for long," Draco's long, drawling voice entered the conversation, "Now stick with us and you can go places. With the rubbish over there for company you'll fall into Dumbledore's happy place."

Very reluctantly, Harry remained with his two friends. His eyes downcast throughout the resumed conversation, it was a relief when the bushy, overly tall man called for them to gather round and, after a short greeting and explanation, climb into the boats made for the students to enter the castle. Although there was room for one more person, nobody was stupid enough not to recognize the son of the notorious Lucius Malfoy, and if they were, they were warned not to approach for fear of consequences.

They crossed the water. the surface unfazed but for the quiet, trembling ripples that rose up as the boats magically propelled themselves across the wide expanse.

Within a couple of minutes, they reached what appeared to be a cave imbedded in a concrete-like substance. It was, in fact, a wizard substance that was created similarly to concrete, but, for ease, it could be taken down with only a short command of words. Also, of course, only certain people could take it apart. Otherwise, everybody could just out and take down one another's house at the slightest of whim! So, only the one who had commissioned it to be built could command it.

Harry was awed by the jagged creations of nature, seeming magical even if it was formed only by the tiniest of water drops. The stalactites and Stalagmites that hung from ceiling and grew from the floor respectively made his jaw gape open and the other two only rolled their eyes and looked away from the unsightly act.

"Shut your trap Potter. They're nothing special and nothing to bow down to," as that was exactly what it appeared Harry was attempting to do as he leaned out over the edge of the boat to touch one, just out of reach past the water's ledge.

He snapped back up to disapproving looks. He would have to work on fitting in here. It had always seemed that his two friends were so much nicer at home...what had happened?

He was brought out of his thoughts as the boat 'clunk'ed against rock solid steps. His eyebrows jumped up in surprise as the gigantic doors that had seemed solid, bumpy parts of the wall slid opened on their own accord, now polished mahogany wood with intricate gold carvings of starving flames. He just couldn't keep his jaw closed.

Chalix gave him another 'inconspicuous' kick to the shin and he straightened up slightly, though not much. They were formed into a line by the Hagrid creature and were walked up a few paths of stairs to another set of double doors, obviously an entrance to some important place...

Draco and Chalix retained their cool, sophisticated, self-assured nature even as everyone around them was shifting nervously and wreaking of nervousness and fear.

Only one other person passed them in the hallway, a teacher they thought. He carried with him an arrogance too full of himself to be a simple student at the school. Besides, he was _old_.

Eventually, after many moments of anticipation, the double doors opened to its excited and somewhat apprehensive audience. Already seated, students sat at 4 round tables (A'sN: yes ROUND tables...ever since I read the books I have imagined the tables as round and so that is the way it is going to be...however much more space-wastey they are...so hmph!) and stared. It appeared that they were attempting to make the new students even more nervous than it appeared they already were. All except for the Hufflepuff house, that is. They were typically nice to almost everybody. With the rare occasion of a few Slytherins.

An old man with long greying hair stood up and the chit-chat that had been floating in the dining room ceased as if a silencing spell had just been cast. His half moon spectacles fell halfway down his nose and he promptly pushed them back.

"Greetings to all new and returning students..." and so the headmaster greeted the students and gave a short speech of the do's and don't's of Hogwarts, school of witchcraft and wizardy and then brought a strange hat sitting on a stool to everybody's attention.

A few of the brighter first year students knew of the Sorting Hat's importance in the deciding of the House they were to be in. However, they spoke not a word as they were frightened as to what might happened if they tried to tell a friend while the Headmaster was speaking.

He quieted and soon, the shabby hat began an entertaining yet informational song about the four houses and a bit of their history. A stunned silence followed the Sorting Hat's triumphant song to greet the newcomers and many stood shocked into place, unwilling to move forward.

Within a few short sentences the meaning of the tatty hat was explained and Headmaster Dumbledore handed over to Professor McGonagall the privilege to speak. So, she started calling names off a list for the students to come up and receive the Sorting Hat's decision.

"Abbot, Hannah," was the first. Within moments, "Hufflepuff!" was shouted out and a table on the far left cheered as the young girl walked over with obvious relief.

Soon, it was Draco Malfoy's turn and he swaggered up while smirking. No sooner had the hat touched a single hair on his head than it called out, "SLYTHERIN!" He grinned maliciously at the other three tables and strutted to his proper place.

Only a couple names later, it was time for "Potter, Harry," to take a seat on the old wooden bench. A soft voice spoke in his ear, the hat coming down far below his eye-level.

Hello, Harry Potter. A pleasure to meet you, truly. So, I see you have a brilliant and rather clever mind. Quite interesting. And you have a knack for getting in trouble, do you not? Might be a good place for you in Slytherin. Your friend sure seems to think so. But back to you, you really don't seem fitted. Too brave and chivalrous. Mostly the reason for all those times you get in trouble, I see. So what shall it be? Let's weigh the scales...Slytherin or perhaps Gryffindor...

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Your Author Cymarel Speaking I would like to make a note to the first reviewer who stated that Chalix was a Mary-Sue. 1. You have not read enough to assume such a thing. How dare you? 2. She is and will not in any way become a Mary-Sue character. She is not 'perfect', nor is she a boy chaser (or in a harsher term, a slut or anything the like thereof). The comment from Narcissa in this chapter about them maybe having a relationship is just because she is stupid git. I hate her, really I do. (Narcissa that is.) I currently don't know if she will end up in ANY relationship. Anyways, about Chalix, she was created in order to allow me to make an alternative twist to the story. I want somebody who can bring in the Dark Lord's influence without somebody like Hermione (heaven forbid) turning into a demon child because Ron and Harry have been "abusing" her friendship (mind you, they saved her from the troll first), as I have seen so many times before. 3. If her _apparently _Mary-Sue like character is offensive to you, why are you bothering to comment? mutters Some people...

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Anyways, I hope this chapter is satisfactory and I will get to work on another one soon!

SO!...time to REVIEW!!! Neh? Please?!

Aire And of course...time for my speech! "BLIG IOANWERN SHK ASOETJ BLMF SDDMG!!!!"

Cymarel What?! That was just mumble jumble!

Aire And very eloquently quoted in case you hadn't noticed.

Cymarel You sure have your head up in the clouds...muttering and as long as it stays there, we're all safe...

Aire What was that? I didn't hear you...

Cymarel You weren't supposed to! So hah!

Aire I'll get you! falls through cloud ATTACK!!!

Cymarel Yelp! HELP!!! MY muse has gone crazy and I can't logically kill myself just to get to my muse, now, can I?! AH!!!!!


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